Death and Transfiguration

Chapter 23

When I looked through the door, I saw that there were bags under Moreau's eyes, and he looked pale, haggard, and completely drained of energy. Yet, he kept on sawing away on the violin, playing the same passage again and again until he finally got it right. He looked like he might collapse at any moment, but nevertheless, he kept on playing, repeating the same few bars over and over again.

"Mr. Moreau?" I said as I stepped into the room. "What's going on?"

"I told you to leave me alone," Moreau said, frustrated.

"You look tired," I said. "Maybe you should get some rest."

"Not until I get this passage right," Moreau said as he picked up the violin and went back to playing. He played a few notes before I managed to snatch the instrument away from him.

"Hey!" Moreau shouted as I held the violin away from him. "Give that back!"

"How long have you been practicing?" I asked him.

"I don't know," Moreau replied. "What time is it?"

I glanced toward the clock and said, "A little past two."

"Two in the afternoon?" Moreau said before pausing for a moment. "I've been practicing for...nineteen hours? Twenty?"

"Twenty hours straight?!" I exclaimed. It was no wonder that Moreau was exhausted. "Have you gone mad?" Moreau didn't respond, so I said to him, "You haven't eaten yet today, have you?"

"No," Moreau said as he fiddled with his violin bow. "I've been too busy practicing." I took the bow away from him, played a note or two on the violin, and then put the instrument and the bow back into Moreau's case, while Moreau gave me an angry look. "Miss Brackenborough, you don't understand," he said. "I can't fail my next audition."

"I understand that, but you have to take better care of yourself," I said. "At this rate, you're going to drop dead long before you have the chance to audition again."

"But Miss Brackenborough!" Moreau exclaimed, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "I have to...I have to keep practicing. I can't let what happened in Nantes happen again..."

"Mr. Moreau, you're an incredible violinist. I'm sure you'll pass your next audition," I reassured him. "But we're going to get something to eat first, and then I want you to get some sleep before you go back to practicing."

"But-"

"No excuses, Mr. Moreau," I said. "You have to take care of yourself."

I walked out of the room, and Moreau reluctantly followed me, struggling to keep his eyes open as he stumbled downstairs and out of the building. The two of us wandered through the neighborhood, and after a short walk, I dragged Moreau into the nearest bakery, Chez Jean.

Mr. Crémieux eyed the two of us as we walked inside and approached the counter. "Not you again," he said to me. "You're Miss Valencourt's little English friend, aren't you?"

"Seems like you've acquired a bit of a reputation around here, Miss Brackenborough," Moreau said, but I ignored both him and Crémieux.

"Could I get a baguette and a box of eclairs?" I asked, looking through all of Crémieux's delicious pastries.

"It's pronounced ba-get, not bah-get," Crémieux said. "Do you English people have any idea of how to speak correctly, without defiling the language of our forebears?"

I ignored Crémieux, and once he was done ranting and raving, he handed me my food. Moreau and I then immediately left the bakery and found a small wooden bench outside where we could sit and eat for a while. As carriages and people rushed by, I opened up the box of eclairs, and of course, Moreau grabbed one and wolfed it down. He then reached into the box again and devoured three more eclairs just as quickly as he'd eaten the first. "Mr. Moreau?" I said to him. "Is everything alright?"